


Flourish

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Romance, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 21:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: In which Thor and Loki learn some mutual truths. (Ragnarok coda/missing scene.)





	Flourish

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: [**Flourish**](https://dreamlittleyo.dreamwidth.org/103669.html)
> 
> I would've posted this fic sooner, but it took a while to finish on account of sneaking it into spare moments around a completely unrelated (different fandom) project. Not ready to give any hints about the unrelated project yet, but in the meantime I hope you all enjoy this self-indulgent little venture.

It didn't take long for Thor to hear the stories.

So much genuine awe in hushed voices, recounting Loki's miraculous and timely appearance in the midst of hopeless defeat. This massive vessel capable of surviving travel through rifts in reality itself, large enough to evacuate an entire people. Asgardians, for all their ancient wisdom, appreciated a good story—almost as much as they reveled in good food, good mead, good company. 

But it must have been a glorious hour indeed, to earn such a retelling despite the loss of their world.

Asgardians were a prideful people; they did not tell stories of victory when the truth felt more like defeat. Which meant that Loki's appearance, perfectly timed as it had been, had left a powerful and indelible impression. There was no other explanation for the way the story spread and spread, each time more impressive. Each time with more potent awe tingeing the words.

Thor did not mind. Let Loki have his moment of glory; there was truth in it.

He didn't dare hope Loki might come to share these accolades in person. Loki would not come to _him_ in the disjointed days following their escape from a doomed realm. Too much unfinished business lingered between them, and Loki was far too cagey.

When Loki did appear, Thor assumed the only conceivable possibility: that his brother stood before him as an illusion only.

Untouchable.

He could barely contain an electric-hot crackle of joy on discovering he was wrong.

"I'm here," Loki said, and Thor smiled so wide his face hurt.

His smile did not abate as his brother joined him beside the enormous viewport. These were Thor's private quarters, and no urgent decisions demanded attention. Their reunion would not be interrupted.

"I see you have not lost your flare for dramatics," Thor observed brightly. He honestly wasn't sure whether he meant Loki's much-retold arrival at the bridge, or this more private moment. It didn't matter, really. Both were apt; Loki could reach his own conclusions.

Loki smiled a sleek, familiar smile. "Anything worth doing, is worth doing with a flourish."

Thor snorted as Loki settled easily into the space beside him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking out together across a vast and improbable starscape. So many points of lights pricked the smothering darkness, swathes and swirls and chaos. Nebulae glowed and pulsed in patterns that no mind—mortal or immortal—could ever dream up.

Even the Allfather could not have created this.

Thor's buoyant mood inevitably sank with thoughts of his father. So much time lost, so many disagreements they would never reconcile. He should've been grateful he'd at least gotten to say goodbye, but he still felt robbed of... Something.

"I did not hasten his death," Loki said softly.

Thor startled at the words—jarred from his own unhappy thoughts—and turned his head to gawp at his brother. He found Loki still staring pointedly out at the stars, jaw tight, mouth pressed thin, eyes far too wide to pretend nonchalance. Loki's posture was rigid, his shoulders painfully tight beneath the gleaming leather of his surcoat. Braced for a confrontation.

Thor searched for the expected anger inside himself and found... Nothing.

He was not angry. Impossible as it seemed, he could not conjure even a spark of the rage he'd felt on Midgard, standing on the empty cliff where Odin had vanished. Perhaps it burned out as Thor processed the fact that—for the second time—his brother _was not dead_. Perhaps he recognized just how little advantage Loki would obtain in killing their father.

Perhaps he simply felt too guilty that his own selfish, self-imposed exile had kept him away from Asgard so long. Who could he truly blame besides himself, for not realizing something was amiss?

"Whatever you might think of me," Loki continued in the same quiet, hesitant voice, "I never meant him harm."

Thor hummed a sound of agreement and turned his gaze forward once more. The clashing starlight did not calm him.

He saw but did not react to the small, sharp movement in his peripheral vision. Even without it he would know Loki's gaze had found him. He could picture the change in his brother's expression. The widening eyes, raised eyebrows, barely parted lips.

A moment later Loki spoke, and there was wonder in his tone. "You believe me."

"Of course I do." Thor turned from the window and met his brother's eyes. "You are telling the truth for once. Why should I not believe you?"

Loki closed his mouth with an audible click. Then opened it again to answer, "Because you claim to have learned better."

Thor gave a sad, lop-sided smile. "I have learned not to _trust you_. There is a difference."

"Yes," Loki conceded. "Just not one I expected you to grasp."

The jibe was spoken lightly, but it stung, and Thor's smile—weak as it was to begin with—vanished from his face. Loki noticed of course, but Thor had no desire to explain why the taunt hurt. It was ridiculous that he could still be wounded by even the most careless of his brother's words, but to imagine Loki truly thought so little of him... He did not _want_ to crave Loki's regard. He was not a child to demand praise and reassurance.

He clenched his jaw and remained silent. No good could come of candor, least of all where his brother was concerned.

But Loki's eyes flashed, narrowing to piercing slits. "Did I say something wrong?" There was genuine confusion in his tone.

Thor weighed his answer with unaccustomed care. "I wish you would not underestimate me." Even though it was to his measurable advantage for Loki to underestimate him. What tricks might his brother conjure if he actually thought Thor capable of keeping pace with him?

Loki blinked and his eyebrows rose, smooth forehead crinkling. "I've hurt your feelings. Thor, don't be petulant. I meant no insult to your intelligence—only your incomprehensible optimism."

If it was ridiculous for Thor to let Loki wound him so easily, it was even more so to be as readily consoled. But the words eased the tightness in his chest. They soothed his aching pride.

"You've _always_ considered me unintelligent," Thor pointed out softly.

Loki cocked his head to one side. "Not unintelligent. Just less intelligent than _me_."

It was a peace offering. It was perhaps even true. Loki was not shy in his disdain for others; surely he would not balk at insulting Thor to his face.

"You have brains enough when you remember to _think_ ," Loki added. Then, in a more somber tone, "We would not be here otherwise. Any of us. All of Asgard would have perished, you and I with them."

"There was no other choice."

"No," Loki agreed, sounding sullen. "But you alone _saw the choice_."

Thor's brow creased. "Why are you angry?"

"I'm not angry." Loki breathed a barely audible sigh. "But _I_ am supposed to be the clever one. How is it you saw the path forward and I did not?"

Thor considered not answering. He could tell from Loki's tone that the question was rhetorical. His brother was not truly demanding an explanation, and Thor didn't owe him one in any case.

But a moment later he heard his own voice, soft and unthinking. "The visions haunted me for months. I did not sleep without seeing Ragnarok consume our world. The prophecy has not been far from my waking mind."

There was pain in these words. More pain than he had allowed himself to feel in the months before, as he scoured the realms in search of answers—in search of a way to prevent the destruction that filled his dreams. During his search he had told himself those images would never come to pass. He'd allowed no suggestion of fear that he might fail.

Now the thing was done. And even though his people were safe, Thor felt the loss of his home keenly. His confession—for that's what the words truly were—hung bleakly in the air.

Thor did not know what crime he was supposedly confessing. He knew only that he felt better for having spoken. Lighter. As though simply sharing the fact of his dreams with Loki had shaken a great and arduous weight from his shoulders.

It was Loki who eventually broke their silence. "I never took you for an oracle." The words were careful. Almost—if Thor could credit his ears— _kind_. "Have you seen anything since?"

Since Asgard. Since Hella.

Since Ragnarok unfolded beneath them with all the weight of eternity.

"No." In the scant days since their escape—his days waiting and praying Loki was alive—Thor's sleep had been blessedly dreamless. "I've seen nothing."

"Then perhaps the danger has truly passed," Loki murmured. He sounded very much like he wanted to believe it.

"Perhaps." Thor desperately wanted to believe it too.

A new silence descended between them, a different and disconcerting sort of quiet. There was something almost expectant lingering in the space between them. A resolve Thor couldn't decipher. Even looking directly into his brother's face, reading the curiosity there, Thor had no idea what to make of this strange tension.

Before he could do the blunt thing and simply _ask_ , Loki took a step toward him. Deliberate, determined, placing them nearly chest-to-chest. Suddenly he stood not just close enough to touch, but close enough it was a challenge _not to_. The proximity stirred long-buried feelings, warmed Thor's blood in ways he had never admitted to anyone.

Loki watched him closely, eyes far too knowing in this unwonted illusion of intimacy.

Perhaps it was not an illusion, a traitorous and foolish corner of Thor's mind tried to suggest. Ridiculous, of course. It _had to be_ an illusion. Any moment Thor would feel a knife in his side. He couldn't imagine what he might have done to anger his brother this time, but there could be no other explanation.

Despite his certainty that a blade was coming, Thor remained exactly where he was, motionless and braced for the attack.

" _Relax_ , brother." Loki's face softened with amusement. "Do you _really think_ I would pick a fight now? Here?" The low chuckle rumbled brazen and honest, and some of the tension eased from Thor's shoulders in answer.

"Then what are you doing?" he asked, despite his best efforts to hold his tongue.

Loki's expression fell sober. "Taking an infinitely more dangerous gamble." Then, before Thor could ask what he meant—

Loki kissed him.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Oh, this was not supposed to happen. This was a secret—a thing Thor was not allowed even to _want_ —a thing he was certainly not allowed to _have_.

But Loki's mouth was warm and insistent. Inviting. And the burst of terrified disbelief in Thor's chest—the certainty that this must be a trap—was not enough to prevent him returning the kiss. He moved now with his own thoughtless instinct, wrapping one arm about Loki's waist, tangling his free hand in Loki's hair. He shivered at the deliberate nudge of tongue along the seam of his lips and opened readily, crushing his brother all the more tightly against him.

Loki breathed a pleased hum, a satisfied sound muffled by the deepening kiss. Nimble fingers danced over Thor's scalp, teasing, stroking along the short fuzz of his shorn hair. Startlingly gentle. Thor had never known Loki to be gentle, and the sensation was disconcerting.

It was Loki who ended the kiss, turning his head just enough to break the point of contact. His arms settled loosely about Thor's shoulders, and he made no move at all to withdraw from the determined arms holding him. When Thor blinked, Loki's eyes were still closed. His brother's brow was smooth, cheeks flushed, lips barely parted.

He was beautiful in a way Thor had rarely permitted himself to consider. A more dangerous gamble indeed.

Eventually, hazily, Loki opened his eyes. Another moment and one corner of his mouth twitched upward. Not quite a smile, but nearly.

"I thought you might enjoy that," Loki said.

Thor's grip on his brother tightened. "What is the meaning of this?" He intended a firm voice, but what came out was faint and unsteady. Helpless.

Thor did not like feeling helpless.

He also did not like the wriggling twist of guilt behind his ribs. He knew damn well he should let go, but his arms refused to loosen. Even worse, he couldn't prevent his gaze from dropping longingly to Loki's mouth. The careless glance was as damning as any confession.

"Are you going to pretend you don't want this?" Loki asked, silken voice incisive as a blade. One arm eased away from Thor's shoulders, and he curled his hand at the base of Thor's throat. "Even if I didn't know you so well, you are not a a talented liar."

Thor's senses spun, and his heart pounded frantically in his chest. He ached. Even worse, he felt naked beneath his brother's piercing eyes.

"How did you know?" he asked, quiet and pleading.

He glimpsed a flash of indecision on his brother's face, but when Loki spoke there was only vulnerable truth in the words.

"I didn't know," Loki admitted, defiance and challenge in the jut of his jaw. "I hoped."

" _Hoped_ ," Thor echoed, sharp and incredulous.

"Suspected," Loki amended. "You are not a subtle man, and I've never known you to refrain when you want something. But if _ever_ you were going to exercise a modicum of self-restraint, surely it would be in this."

Thor swallowed, absorbing the information. Silent for only a moment before asking, "And you? Have you also wanted this?"

A sliver of tension eased from Loki's body. "Of course I have." The hand touching Thor's throat traced his skin as though exploring. Delicate fingers skimmed higher, touching the edge of Thor's eyepatch, curious but careful. There was heat in the way Loki watched him, and Thor barely resisted the urge to kiss his brother again.

"Why now?" Thor set the urge aside, squashing it down even as he failed to let go of the lithe form in his arms. That Loki was admitting to this at all—admitting to _wanting something_ when that wanting left him just as vulnerable as Thor—seemed impossible. But then why not sooner? How long had Loki desired this and not said a word?

Instead of answering immediately, Loki simply stared at him for a long time. Exasperation tinged his expression, making Thor wonder what he had said or done wrong.

He held his ground, let his arms slide lower to hold Loki more easily about the waist.

Loki's eyebrows rose. "Oh. You're serious."

Thor braced himself for insult—for Loki to throw barbed ridicule at him—for exhortations against stupid questions.

But Loki only eased nearer into his space, ducking his head as though to nuzzle at Thor's jaw, but not quite closing the distance. His breath was warm over the shell of Thor's ear when Loki finally gave his answer.

"Setting aside for the moment the... difficulties we have faced together," Loki murmured softly, "consider your own heart, Thor. Would you have welcomed this confession while Odin was alive?"

Thor drew a startled breath, freezing in an instant at the thought of his father seeing them like this. They could not have concealed this, not from the Allfather himself. A man who saw nearly as well as Heimdall. Thor could all too easily imagine the rage they would face down for this if Odin were still alive.

"Yes." Loki eased back to look him deliberately in the eye. " _That_ is why I did not confess."

Thor inhaled more slowly, let the breath out in near silence. He needed to collect himself, a task nearly impossible with Loki so close. His thoughts were a spinning and chaotic jumble, his emotions even worse. He needed to _think_.

With stubborn effort he found some measure of calm, and clutched it to himself almost as tightly as he still held Loki.

"I am still angry at you." Thor's low voice was girded with steel. "You have done terrible things, brother. Not just to me, but to the worlds I love. I should not forgive you so easily."

Loki's expression shuttered and his gentle explorations fell away. "I am not asking for your forgiveness."

"Loki—"

"No." Loki twisted free of Thor's embrace, putting several inches of space between them. " _Do not_ patronize me. I know perfectly well what wrongs I have done. I did not return for _absolution_." There was so much anger in the low hiss of Loki's voice that Thor almost missed the faint note of fear beneath.

It perplexed him. What could his brother possibly have to fear?

"But you _did return_." Thor took a cautious step forward. "You are _here_ , when I never thought to see you again. I know you, Loki. Better than you think. You do nothing without a reason." Several reasons, more often, though usually Thor did not decipher them until much later. Which left him at a loss in this moment; for all his gratitude that Loki was here, he still did not understand _why_.

Loki stared at him, pride and stubbornness in his eyes. Spine straight, shoulders tight, jaw clenched as though bracing for a fight. Thor recognized this stance all too well. He would not win Loki over with either strength or reason when his brother approached him like this.

But then, Thor did not want a fight.

He took a single step forward and saw Loki tense. Another step and he could nearly feel the hum of anticipation twisting between them. A third put him near enough to touch.

"You don't have to tell me why," Thor said. "Angry or not, I am glad you're here."

Then he reached for his brother, ignoring the wide flash of surprise, and dragged him back into Thor's arms where he belonged. He gave Loki no opportunity to argue further; he claimed a new kiss, different from the first. Hungrier, harder, fierce with so many years of pretending that he did not want this. When guilty thoughts of his father crept forward, Thor shoved them desperately away. He could not consider Odin now. He could think of nothing but the impossible fact of _Loki_. Here. On this ship. In this room. _In his arms_.

Loki was no grudging recipient of Thor's renewed attentions. Shock gave way quickly, and he _moved_ , alive and lively in Thor's embrace. Loki clung to him, opening readily for the possessive thrust of Thor's tongue as the kiss turned frantic, desperate, deep.

So many centuries of lost time.

When Loki broke from the kiss, Thor tried thoughtlessly to follow and reclaim his brother's mouth. Loki turned his face away, effectively dodging the attempt, and Thor subsided with reluctance. It took several more seconds for his brain to overtake his baser instincts, and he blinked at Loki with curiosity and concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he realized he couldn't decipher the cryptic intensity on his brother's face.

Loki's expression softened. "Nothing is wrong." He leaned up and in, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Thor's mouth.

"Then why do you withdraw?"

"Only to ask what you want of me tonight."

Thor's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Do not play the innocent, brother. It doesn't suit you." Before Thor could protest, Loki continued, "How would you have me? On my back? On my knees? What satisfaction do you most crave?"

" _Oh_ ," Thor breathed.

"Anything you want." Loki murmured the words against the line of Thor's throat.

There were so many things Thor wanted. So many fantasies he had never allowed himself to consider, so many possibilities and desires. _Anything_ , Loki had said. It was enough to make Thor's head spin.

But despite the rush of temptation, Thor hesitated. _Loki was here_. He could not squander this unlikely gift.

"No," he said softly. "Tell me what _you_ want."

Loki froze in his arms—a stillness so complete no living mortal could have achieved it—and stared as though Thor had just upended the very universe.

"What?" Loki's voice was entirely without inflection, and under other circumstances his expression might have been comical. The flash of widening eyes, the rising eyebrows, the jaw dropped so that his mouth hung agape. Beautiful face transformed into something so unlike his usual indecipherable facade.

But tonight Thor was not happy to have surprised his brother. He was too busy comprehending the meaning of his brother's shock. The inevitable conclusion: that Loki had not believed Thor would care what _he_ wanted.

Thor tried very hard to keep any hurt from showing on his face, but he didn't need the honing of Loki's attention to tell him he'd failed. He could feel his own expression changing, faintly crestfallen. He willed himself to set the sudden ache aside, but of course he couldn't. Even knowing he was being ridiculous, his pride and heart both ached.

"Brother," Loki began, and then tapered off. Thor didn't much like putting his silver-tongued brother at a loss for words.

"Do you truly think me so selfish?" The words burst out in a rush, absent any conscious intent. Thor had not meant to speak; he certainly had not intended to sound so small and stung. But he couldn't take it back, and the question hung between them, awkward and unsteady and far too honest.

"I meant no insult," Loki said, smooth as ever in his effort to soften the blow.

"Of course not," Thor agreed without ire or irony. He considered their years together and apart, and realized—abruptly and painfully—that Loki's surprise was entirely founded. "Forgive me. I _have_ been selfish."

"I did not say that," Loki protested.

Thor offered a self-deprecating smile. "You did not have to. But I give you my word I will do better." Starting right this moment. Starting with Loki here in his arms, and the kindling spark of forbidden potential between them. "So. I will ask again: tell me what _you_ want."

Considering Loki's tendency to weigh even the most personal decisions under the guise of strategy, Thor more than half expected him to demure.

Instead, after what felt like several eons of consideration, Loki let a wicked smile play across his face.

"Tell me, brother," he murmured, leaning close to put the words directly into Thor's ear, "have you tasted a man's cock before?"

"No," Thor answered, and felt his brother shiver with pleasure in his arms.

When Loki eased back, there was something bright and possessive in his eyes, in the barely parted lips, in the flush of visible heat reddening smooth skin. He was still smiling as he traced a thumb across Thor's lower lip.

"Would you?" Loki asked softly.

Thor did not answer aloud. Instead he let go, dropping the circle of his arms and releasing Loki. Setting both hands to rest on bony hips.

Then, slowly, he lowered himself to kneel at his brother's feet.

It felt dangerous. Thrilling. _Wrong_ in a way that wrapped tight and enticing around Thor's heart. He still held Loki by the hips as he peered up into his brother's face. As he allowed himself to enjoy the hungry way Loki watched him, winded and eager. He had never seen such raw feeling on Loki's normally guarded face, and the sight made Thor's heart pound fast.

His own cock ached beneath restrictive clothing. He'd been hard since the moment Loki first kissed him, but Thor set that particular urgency aside. He focused instead on the distinctive bulge barely discernible beneath his brother's clothing; why did Loki insist on wearing so damnably many layers?

Thor licked his lips, less to wet them than to tease Loki, and said, "Brother, I'm afraid we have a problem."

"A problem?" Loki echoed, sounding distinctly strained.

Thor kept his expression serious only with difficulty. "I cannot taste anything like this. If you want my mouth, you will need to be significantly more naked."

" _Oh_ ," Loki breathed.

Thor could no longer contain a grin at his brother's helpless tone. He let go of Loki's hips and sat back on his heels, staring up expectantly. Patiently. Greedily. He had seen Loki naked before of course, but this... This would be all for him. His to enjoy and properly savor.

Considering how graceful Loki was in nearly everything he did, Thor expected the same in this moment. A sleek slide of fabric, perhaps a glimmer of magic. An enticing demonstration to drive him mad.

Instead Loki fumbled with the clasps of his surcoat and shrugged the heavy garment from his shoulders, struggling with the sleeves as the ornate arrangement of leather and metal thudded to the floor. More clothing fell, scattering with unaccustomed carelessness. Clasps and buckles, fabric and armor. Until at last Loki stood before him in only dark leggings and a thin shirt that shimmered nearly translucent. Even Loki's boots were gone, leaving him barefoot on the smooth floor.

Thor did not waste time wondering if his brother would be cold. For one thing, Loki was a god. For another, the cold had never bothered him. For a third, Thor's entire focus was held elsewhere, on the straining arousal so much more evident now that Loki was not covered as though for battle.

"Better," Thor murmured, and reached for his brother once more.

There was something strangely hesitant in Loki's answering touch. Fingers traced over Thor's temples, grazed has scalp, slid along his jaw. Cautious and wondering and honest. Thor kept his face turned upward, meeting Loki's eyes even as he impatiently shoved the remaining layer's of clothing aside in order to bare his brother's cock.

Of course, at the first slide of bare skin along his palm, Thor had to _see_. His gaze dropped and he took in the sight before him—the length flushed and hard in his hand—slickness already beading at the tip. Thor's mouth watered and he swallowed hard. This wasn't the first cock he'd seen besides his own; it wasn't even the first he had _touched_. But it was the first he would know quite so intimately, and he found himself leaning forward with an urgency born of instinct.

It was a strange sensation, the press of hot flesh past parted lips, the bitter-salt slide of flavor across his tongue. Pleasant, but strange. And oh so worth the effort when he took more and elicited a low stream of curses from Loki. Three languages, maybe more, twining around each other one after another. One cool hand curled at the nape of Thor's neck, gripping tightly but not forcing him forward.

Thor bobbed lower. Suppressed the choking sensation at the back of his throat when he took too much, too fast. He hollowed his cheeks and traced his tongue over the soft underside of Loki's cock. God, he was desperate for this. Hungry to please his brother, to prove himself. More than he craved his own satisfaction, he wanted to hear what Loki would sound like falling completely apart.

So many intimacies he had never dared dream about, let alone imagined he could _take_. Now, here, on his knees... He could have them, and his head spun with possibilities.

Loki moaned when Thor drew off and bobbed low again, and there was a distinct moment where he seemed less than steady on his feet. 

Thor let his own touch wander. He curled a firm hand at Loki's hip—not bothering to modulate his strength—then circled a gentler grip around the base of Loki's cock, stroking in time with the slide of his mouth.

" _Oh_ ," Loki breathed when Thor took him deeper again, "you are _damnably_ good at that."

Thor hummed around his brother's cock, warmth suffusing him at the praise.

When Loki's grip at the nape of his neck turned more demanding, Thor offered no protest. He did not resist as his brother guide him forward—forceful now—the head of Loki's cock nudging at the back of Thor's throat. The instinct to choke was strong, almost overpowering, but Thor suppressed it. He relaxed his throat by force of will and _swallowed_ , accepting the smooth slide that filled him.

He did not stop until there was no further to go, his nose nestled to Loki's belly, his lips stretched wide around the base of his brother's cock.

Patient. He could be patient. He thrilled at the trembling in Loki's body, the sudden unsteadiness where they touched. There was unexpected power in this, and Thor felt giddy. Overheated and determined to make this last.

A moment later and Loki urged him to motion. Thor could have resisted—Loki's physical strength was no match for his own—but he had no desire to fight. Instead he allowed himself to be guided, commanded by touch. He allowed Loki to _take_ , as Thor relaxed and accepted the increasingly brutal pace. There was power in this too. In letting Loki use him. Satisfaction ignited a new inferno in Thor's blood, reminding him that his own arousal still ached with need.

He knew what it meant when Loki stilled, cock pressed deep, suddenly motionless. This Thor allowed too, swallowing as his brother spent down his throat, a surreal sensation that did nothing to diminish his own arousal.

Wordless comprehension passed between them when Loki withdrew his softening cock. Thor remained on his knees as gentle fingers framed his face, curled beneath his chin, tilted his head back so that they could look at each other properly.

"You're beautiful, you know," Loki murmured, his thumb stroking Thor's beard.

"So are you," Thor breathed, answering without thought.

Loki stared at him. Seconds stretched taut between them, and Thor struggled to keep still, to steady his breathing, to slow his heart. He wanted so badly to touch—to _take_ —and with every passing moment the need beneath his skin spun tighter.

"Stand up," Loki ordered, low and sharp. "And take off this ridiculous armor. I don't want all these metal edges stabbing me when you lose your last vestige of self-restraint and pin me to the floor."

Thor choked on a needy sound, somewhere between a growl and a gasp, and clambered gracelessly to his feet.

He did not point out Loki's hypocrisy—that Loki himself favored clothing with the same sharp metal and heavy clasps—because in this moment he did not care. He was too busy dragging his own clothing away, tossing every garment and buckle and strap aside. Letting them fall to the floor in complete chaos because he could not be bothered to worry about where they might land.

Loki made no move to help. In fact, Loki made no move _at all_ , staring at him with terrifying focus. Perfectly motionless and completely transfixed.

" _Enough_ ," Thor growled, urgency overwhelming him at last. He surged forward, reaching for thin fabric and tearing it away. Loki breathed a startled laughed, but he made no effort to stop Thor from ruining his last thin layers of clothing.

"Impatient brute," Loki gasped, but there was humor in the words. An echo of startled amusement even as Thor tugged their bodies flush and pressed a bruising kiss to the line of his brother's throat.

"Do you _want_ me to put you on the floor?" Thor growled into cool skin. It was more offer than threat; he was genuinely curious. "Do you want me to overpower you, brother? Force you onto your back and hold you down?"

Loki moaned and clung to him, hiding his face as he admitted, " _Yes_." The confession, that one word, broke into the space between them, bright and hot and razor-sharp.

Thor's voice gentled, but his hold on his brother remained bruising. "I don't want to hurt you."

A soft laugh, breathless and warm. "Here," Loki said, shifting in Thor's arms and then—after the faintest tingle of conjuring magic—pressed a small vial into Thor's hand.

Thor did not need to glance downward to know what Loki had given him. There would be oil in the vial. Something slick and perfect for what Thor intended to do to his brother. He clasped his hand tightly around the gift and crushed Loki to him in a relentless kiss. There was too much hunger alight in his blood to slow down now.

When he retreated he found Loki watching him. Smiling. There was something both familiar and vicious in that silk-smooth voice when Loki said, "You promised to overpower me and force me to your will. What are you waiting for?"

Oh, Thor was not strong enough to resist such a demand. He moved swiftly now, wrestling his brother to the ground. Loki put up a token resistance—just enough challenge to make the victory worthwhile—but there was no question Thor would triumph. Such a simple matter once he had his brother pinned, to force resisting legs apart and fit his bulk into the space between. And such satisfaction in the way Loki arched beneath him, blatant promise in the tease of friction, the slide of skin.

There was even more promise in the wicked grin on his brother's face. Thor braced himself on one arm, and a bright spark of hunger passed between them in an eager instant.

Thor realized he had lost the vial in their scuffle. But Loki took pity on him, finding and pressing it once more into his hand. No commentary but for the eloquent arch of one sleek eyebrow.

Thor could not resist ducking down to claim another kiss. Loki opened immediately, lips parting for the greedy thrust of his tongue. Loki's hands wandered, framing Thor's face, grasping his shoulders, pressing over the heart beating ever faster in his chest.

When Thor broke from the kiss, it was to kneel upright, still positioned between Loki's parted legs. Creating even this much distance was more difficult than he would admit. Separating from his brother's warmth, watching Loki's arms fall to the floor on either side of him. Losing that exploring touch for even this brief, necessary moment.

Thor unstoppered the vial, barely keeping his hands steady in his haste. New impatience hurried him as he slicked his fingers.

"You don't need to do that," Loki protested, and Thor's blood warmed when he glanced at his brother and realized Loki was hard. Again. "I don't need your fingers first. Your cock will do just fine."

"Patience," Thor admonished.

" _Patience_?" Loki echoed with bright disbelief. "What do _you_ know of patience?"

Thor did not allow the jibe to hurry him. With his dry hand he gripped Loki firmly by the hip. With the other he quested between parted thighs, finding his brother's tight entrance and—with a breath of anticipation—pressing two fingers inside. Loki threw his head back, neck stretching taut as his eyes fell shut. Thor grinned and slid his fingers deeper.

" _More_ ," Loki growled. When his eyes opened they looked overwhelmed and wild. "Stop taunting me and _do it_."

And oh, the knowledge that this delay was tormenting his brother... It was all the motivation Thor needed to continue at maddening length. Alongside his determination not to hurt Loki, there was additional satisfaction to be found.

He took his time. Crooked his fingers, twisted them inside his brother's body, but even so he continued gentle. Slow and careful. He spent what felt like hours preparing Loki, ignoring his own mounting need in favor of taking his brother apart. 

What little composure Loki might have possessed at the start, it faded quickly. By the time Thor withdrew his fingers, his brother had devolved to ineloquent cursing, growled epithets, not all of which Thor understood.

" _Thor_." Loki grabbed at his arm with bruising strength. " _Enough_. So help me, if you don't—"

Thor leaned down, silencing him with a kiss. Then, positioning himself between Loki's thighs, he fucked quickly, smoothly in.

Loki broke from the kiss with a choked cry, both arms wrapping around Thor's shoulders, clinging in desperate encouragement. A moment more and Loki's knees bent, legs bracketing Thor's hips, body arching to meet the thrust of his cock.

A groan rumbled up from Thor's chest as he pressed deeper. He held on tightly, letting his weight bear his brother against the floor as he seated himself fully in the willing body beneath him.

For a time—a span of seconds stretching endless with potential—they were both perfectly still. Thor held his breath. Loki did the same, face pressed to Thor's throat. Not so much as a tremble passed between them as, without a single word, they shared a moment of perfect understanding. The enormity of what they were doing... The wrongness of it precariously balanced against the need and inevitability of this intimacy long overdue...

Thor _could not_ breathe. He could not believe he'd been so determined to deny himself this.

It was Loki who broke first, drawing a shaky gasp. Thor did the same, and the stillness melted away as though by agreement, Loki nuzzling beneath Thor's jaw, Thor rolling his hips to remind his brother—unnecessarily—of the firm length nestled inside him. Loki's cock was a line of heat between their bodies, straining hard and impatient.

Thor drew back. Fucked forward. Relished the cry of pleasure as his thrust jostled Loki against the unforgiving floor. He was breathing hard himself now, panting breaths as he repeated the maneuver. As he did it again. As he found a deep and unrelenting rhythm, Loki eager beneath him, rolling his hips with every thrust and goading Thor on.

He hadn't expected to last long. Not now that he was _here_ , with Loki under his hands—under his weight—satisfaction _so close_. But Thor was stubborn, and he did not want this over quickly. Perhaps it was the only time he would ever have Loki; perhaps later his brother would change his mind. Loki was certainly mercurial enough, and all this?

It was too good to be true. Thor could have Loki, but surely he could not _keep him_.

So he staved off his own orgasm as long as he could, fucking his brother more fiercely every second. Keeping himself back from the precipice by force of will.

But even at his most stubborn, Thor could not make this last forever. When Loki took his hand and guided it between their bodies, Thor obeyed the wordless plea. He curled his fingers around his brother's cock, gave a measured stroke that earned a low whimper of pleasure and then sting of teeth as Loki bit his shoulder to muffle a louder moan.

Biting at Loki's throat in answer was more raw instinct than conscious retaliation. Thor gave another stroke, a matching thrust. His movements stuttered now. So close, so frantic, so helpless—

Loki spent across his fingers with a cry, head falling back and eyes closing in absolute surrender.

It was too much. Thor thrust once more, sliding hilt-deep with a groan. Power and pleasure and a roil of thunder echoed in his blood, and—

He was crying out, shouting his own ecstasy into Loki's skin, and—

 _Fuck_ , Thor had never known satisfaction like this. There was a terrifying instant where his senses overwhelmed him. Reality spun away, leaving nothing but Loki. His only anchor, the only thing real and substantial and _true_.

An eternity later, Thor became aware once more. Of the floor beneath his knees, the chilly air of his quarters, the stars and nebulae spinning beyond the viewport in his peripheral vision. 

Loki shifted beneath him, and Thor eased back, slipping as gently as possible from his brother's body. Tempting as it was to simply drop his weight forward, pin Loki beneath his exhausted bulk, Thor pushed himself to the side instead, landing on his back with a grunt and reaching for his brother.

"Come here," he muttered when he found Loki's arm, and gave a demanding tug.

Loki huffed, exasperated, but allowed himself to be pulled closer. He tucked himself snugly along Thor's side and laid his head on Thor's shoulder.

"Spoiled," Loki murmured without rancor. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you like." Thor kissed his brother's temple, not caring if Loki mocked him for being sentimental. "So long as you stay."

Loki stilled, just for a moment. Just long enough for Thor to fear he had misstepped—that he had asked too much. Of course Loki would refuse to stay. To ask such a thing was a different sort of selfishness, and guilt kicked in his chest.

He had promised to do better.

Before Thor could apologize, Loki relaxed in his arms. Loki's voice was uncharacteristically hesitant when he asked, "Is there a place for me here?"

"Of course there is," Thor answered without thinking. Foolish of him, maybe. Letting his guard down again. Making himself vulnerable to attack _again_. But Loki was here, and Thor would not send him away. After losing his brother twice... After the betrayals and the confessions and all they had been through... How could he live with such a choice?

He _could not_ send his brother away. His heart would not allow it. 

"After everything I've done?" Loki pushed himself up on one arm in order to meet Thor's gaze. "You would forgive me so easily?"

"It's not a question of forgiveness. You're my brother. I would be a fool not to keep you by my side." Loki was not only his brother, of course. Even before the lines they had just crossed, he'd been so much more than that. Not just Thor's family, but his future. His destiny. Perhaps that was why his brother's supposed deaths had jarred him so deeply; he could not conceive of losing Loki so soon.

"You may prove yourself a fool regardless." The words were teasing, accompanied by a glint of affection.

But despite all the warmth in Loki's tone, Thor still felt restless. Those words were not a promise; they were not a reassurance of any kind. And suddenly Thor was terrified all over again that Loki would simply vanish, leaving him behind.

His voice rasped with too much emotion when he asked, "Will you stay?"

Loki's eyes narrowed in answer. Piercing, considering, measuring. Careful. Thor held his breath beneath the scrutiny. He waited silently, vibrating with unspoken impatience. Trying—probably failing— _not_ to be obvious about just how desperate he was.

"Yes," Loki said at last. "I'll stay."

A heartbeat held silent between them. A moment for Loki's words to settle into the quiet. Then Thor grinned, wide and honest and unashamed.

Outside, the vastness of space continued to pass them by.

**Author's Note:**

> I also hang out **[over on Dreamwidth](https://dreamlittleyo.dreamwidth.org/)** if that is a place anyone still goes. In the rare instance I'm inspired to post things that aren't fic--or participate in wider fandom happenings--that's where you'll find me. :D


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